Her Story
by cherrytye
Summary: What could have happened had James Tiberius Kirk had been born a girl instead.
1. Chapter 1

Why was he so nervous? The ship had garnered much attention from its respectable crew and experienced captain. Any mission it had received before met with success. His wife would be under the care of several doctors perfectly capable of delivering a baby should that time come. So why couldn't he stop fidgeting?

The problem tickled the back of his mind.

He took a swig from his shot glass. The bar was far from his first or ideal place to come. But it served its purpose.

He raised his glass for another fill.

Someone slapped him on the shoulder. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Chris."

"George, how's Winny doing?"

"She's expecting within a week."

"Aren't you excited?"

"Yeah."

His friend snorted at his eloquence.

"Do me a favor please?"

"Anything at all."

". . . if something happens, take care of her for me."

A frown marred his friend's otherwise handsome face.

"I wouldn't ask if you were'nt my best friend."

His friend seemed to relent.

"Of course. But do you expect something to happen?"

George finished his drink in a swing. He looked at his friend, and tried to smile reassuringly. He wasn't sure if he succeeded.

"No, just a lot can go wrong in space."

………………………………………………………………………………………………................................................

Fighting Narada was a cause lost long before it started.

As the Kelvin was being bombarded with missiles, there wasn't any time to waste. Nearly all 800 of the USS Kelvin's crew had boarded any remaining shuttle pods maneuvering through projectiles and the ship's littered pieces. Any that were not, were either dying floating through the vacuum of space or being incinerated inside a struck pod.

George Kirk did what he'd never thought he'd do. Abandon his wife and unborn child right before going down with the Kelvin.

He chuckled to himself morbidly.

A lot can go wrong in space. His own words rang in his ears. That must be the worst understatement he could have made.

A baby's cry echoed in his ears. It was his baby, his child.

"George."

He heard his wife's voice. Tired and strained but alive and breathing.

"What is it?" George asked.

"A girl."

He took a brief moment to picture his daughter. Cradled in blankets and the arms of his beloved. Eyes squeezed shut, bald and pink. Tiny hands fisted. Winona easing hers and his daughter from distress.

"What are we gonna call her?"

"How about Alexandra? Alexandra Eve?"

"Yeah, Alex my daughter."

Winona held back tears. George almost lost his resolve right then.

"George, you should be here."

He swallowed thickly. "I know, sweetie. I know."

The baby-no, his daughter- cried.

George glanced at the cracked screens. Any second now…

"Sweetie, I love you. I love you so much."

Winona held back tears.

"I know."

"Take care-"The connection was cut.

She gasped as she watched the screen in the shuttle.

Kelvin, and her husband, was no more.

Winona weeped.

…………………………………………………………

Okay, this is just a test run. I really don't think this is something to continue considering the amount of time I have. *cough*noneatall*cough* This could go on of course, if I don't suffer from chronic writer's block. But hey... you never know. And if you review, all the better.


	2. Chapter 2

Each funeral was a closed casket ceremony. After all, what body is there left to bury?

The USS Kelvin had lost a total of 31 crew members not including Captain Richard Robau and First Officer George Kirk out of the near 800. Due to any struck escape pods and those lost in deep space when unfortunate enough to have been on the decks Kelvin was mutilated.

The commanders of Starfleet issued the names of the deceased only after the survivors made it back safely to earth. _Perhaps they wanted to torture the press with the suspense_, thought the widowed Winona Kirk bitterly. _Probably trying to gather the sympathies of the public._

Of all the graves, two was covered- practically overwhelmed- with flowers and reefs. One she disregarded, the other Winona paid full attention. His.

Winona gritted her teeth, her hands clenched on the hem of her black dress. She had cried enough during the shuttle ride home. Her husband wouldn't want her to drown in misery unlike the others around her. It didn't matter what the other families might think, to see the woman who suffered the most appear impassive. Or at least, pokerfaced. After all, George made the choice to die. The others didn't.

There was an adequate amount of weeping, bawling, and blubbering from various families already.

A hand laid itself on her shoulder. Winona felt like snapping after all the dozens of people who offered their condolences before. She didn't need another.

Winona turned to tell the person- or persons- off but was cut off.

"Chris?"

"Let's talk. How about at your home?"

……………………………………………………………………………..

"Chris, I couldn't possibly ask you to do so much. It's no different from me taking advantage of you."

"You're not, trust me. I am just keeping my word to a friend." Chris did not understand the complexities of woman. And after this, he felt he didn't want to.

"George couldn't have possibly known to what extent his promise made you bound to. Taking care of a single mother of two like this, what will happen to your career?" Stupid Chris. He was better off just giving pity and being done with it. Why did he have to offer?

"…I think your husband did know."

"Know of what?"

"Know what he's making me do."

"…George…"

Footsteps echoed. Pacing first, and then stopping. A squeak was heard, signaling a sharp turn of the heel before the steps began again.

"I just want to be able to give Alex and Sam a normal life as possible. We both know they deserve it."

"…Chris, I don't think it was a promise he's making you keep, but a burden."

Heavier footsteps reverberated and halted. A doorknob turned followed by the screech of a door opening half way.

Did she have to make this so hard? No one should have to deal with her predicament alone. So why was she being so damn stubborn? He was keeping a promise not to his best friend, but to himself as well. If he had wanted nothing to do with her and her children, he never would have mentioned the rash promise. But doing so was a disgrace upon the empty grave of George Kirk.

Christopher Pike exhaled.

"Winona, it isn't just your burden to bear."

Suddenly, she was alone.

Winona cursed Chris for trying to keep his word. He could have made it so much easier for her, knowing she could have done this by herself. Instead he offered his assistance right when Winona needed it the most, when she knew she couldn't trust herself. She wasn't lying when she said she could advantage of him. She could handle this on her own just fine. She didn't care if he was the godfather.

The woman sank to her knees. Muffled sobs escaped unbidden as a baby's cry sounded throughout the house. For a moment, the only sounds came from the only two occupants in the home.

Winona took a shuddering breath and rose. She didn't have time to mourn.

In the playroom, in the crib, a cocoon of blankets tossed and turned attempting to thrash out of the protective layer of covers. Inside it, a tiny pink baby wrestled stubbornly although futilely to break away.

The mother watched the scene with conflicted eyes. Despair, tenderness, hurt, ardor…

Winona reached down, cursing slightly at her trembling fingers, and replaced the covers. Suddenly her eyes met blue.

The baby's eyes had finally opened.

It took her back farther than Winona would ever care to admit. When she was still in Starfleet schooling to be a nurse, when she had to reset some moron's dislocated shoulder during basic combat training after he tried to flip someone obviously much heavier on his back. The idiotic grin she received after fixing him would stay with her forever. As well as his eyes.

Winona looked down at the exact same ones. But instead of accompanying a tanned face, it was framed by already ridiculously long lashes and a baby pink face. She cradled the baby close to her bosom.

Alex let out a gurgle before setting her eyes on her mother. Less than a week old and she could already focus her eyes. Her daughter put up a pretty good staring contest before she broke the focus with a yawn and coo. Snuggling deeper into the blankets, she promptly fell asleep.

Winona watched fascinated, placing her in the crib. A shuddering breath escaped her as if she was underwater for too long and had finally broken the surface.

Could she really do this by herself? Sam was only six, but already independent. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing. He took care of himself well when she was once ill with pneumonia.

Or was this just her being stubborn and too proud for her own good? No, she shook her head. This is for her children's good.

What would George do?

Winona glanced her daughter again.

Making up her mind, she flipped her communicator.

"Hey, Chris. A godfather is full time occupation you know, especially when the father isn't around. Think you can handle it?"

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Lucky dogs, you managed to squeeze another chappie out of me. I never really got why writers were so addicted to reviews, now I know. This one is hopefully a little longer and not as pieced together as the previous chappie.

It may be boring, but this is just me unable to leave something vague on what George made Chris promise.

jamrulz: Ehhhh.. maybe. Whether its a full relationship or not, you can expect a little something.

IKeepAGoldfishInMyBra: ....nice pen name! Good to hear, I thought it was a rather lacking premise.

dswynne: I was actually planning on that, but then I thought what were the chances Jim's maternal grandparents names were James and Jane? But I am using that idea later on, you'll just have to see how. ; ) Thanks.

Naomi Blue: Expect a lot of changes!

And to everyone else, thankies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember to review!


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